


Best Friends/Ex Friends (Better Off As Lovers)

by Pterodactyl_Booty



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Kinda?, M/M, Unrequited Crush, bulletproof glass, gaaay, i dont know how to tag things sry, its not even graphic jfc, matt jerks it in the beginning thats all the smutty stuff, this is really gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 17:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6338221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pterodactyl_Booty/pseuds/Pterodactyl_Booty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Matt is too careful and Tord is very VERY reckless. Also they're in a band.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Friends/Ex Friends (Better Off As Lovers)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks warren for the title and also bein gay w/ me luv u my dude
> 
> i stg im gonna fuckin build the bulletproof glass fandom all by myself

Sure, Matt’s noticed that Tord was attractive. He isn’t blind.

He’s known Tord for a long time, and age has only enhanced how fucking gorgeous the guitarist is. His hair got longer, his features more pronounced. He gets better at the guitar, and fuck. That’s a sight to behold- and Matt has the best seat in the house. (If you could ever see Tord play guitar, you’d understand. How he thrashes around on stage, all passion and clothes sticking to sweaty skin. Kinda like sex on legs.)

  
So, maybe (just maybe) Matt would be jerking some nights after a show. He'd be close, and when he closes his eyes his mind would supply him with...images. Of Tord, looking up at him with heavily lidded eyes. Pupils blown wide- all from sex and adrenaline, from Matt. Matt putting that blissed out look on his face, not whatever drugs Tord had taken. His mouth open as he pants Matt’s name, perfect lips raw and red.

And maybe (just maybe) Matt came so hard his vision whited out, body curling in, and his mouth tasting of copper as he bit into his tongue to stay quiet.

Matt tries to feel guilty about it. Honest. But, he just can’t manage to.

But it’s just a crush, or whatever. It’s just Matt being stupid and Tord being gorgeous. He’s Matt’s best friend first, and always will be. Matt’s stupid, silly fantasies go on the back burner.  
Because Tord is perfect, except for one thing: he’s kind of stupid. (He’s a teenaged boy, he’s allowed) It’s endearing, except for when he drinks too much or takes shit he can’t identify and Matt has to muscle him into the car then into bed, helping him nurse the hangover in the morning.

* * *

**18**

 

So, when Tord turns legal, Matt doesn’t even blink. Nothing has changed, and as he sits on a smelly old couch, watching drunk people fall over themselves in the name of Tord’s 18th birthday party- at no point does Matt think ‘now’s my chance’.

Because it isn’t. Matt’s not going to say there never will be (but he isn’t confident) but it certainly isn’t now. So he just sits, sipping on his water bottle, and chatting with the people he knows when they come by.

Which is when Tord promptly comes over and tries to fuck everything up.

He talks about how Matt watches out for him. In bars and at parties. Which, fuck. Matt didn’t think he was being subtle, exactly. But he’s still surprised when Tord mentions it.  
He waits for Tord to excuse him from it, to tell him to quit it. (Waits for the rejection) He waits for a dismissal that never comes

Because when Matt confirms it- because yeah, he does watch Tord. The alternative is to stay in the van and worry.

He’ll continue to, too, be there when Tord needs him.

But Tord just smiles soso happily when Matt says as much. He looks so satisfied and lit up by the idea of being taken care of (which he hates, usually- Matt knows that) that every moment of heartache in the past couple of years becomes worth it.

  
xx

  
Theoretically, Tord is everything Matt should hate. He’s everything he’s not: he’s loud, and talkative and larger than life. He parties chronically and can drink his weight.  
They shouldn’t even be compatible, friend wise.  
But, then, why does Matt love him so goddamn much?

(Because Tord’s funny in all the right ways; he makes everyone comfortable, and his humor is kind. He doesn’t step on toes, but is still genuinely funny. He likes comic books and video games, and can watch Star Wars 50 times in a row and not get bored. Because he buys Matt coffee and makes funny faces at him to make him smile during those stupid photoshoots.  
Because, somehow, the fit together like puzzle pieces. Perfectly complementary- right next together through thick and thin to make a larger, better picture.  
because he’s perfect)

* * *

**19**

 

Tord’s got this girlfriend and Matt thinks she might be the devil.  
(He stands behind the fact that it’s her and not his jealousy)

The two haven’t been together very long, but it’s been 8 months and Matt really, really hates her.

Tord's life got hard, and he’s been down. Just little things that add up; fans gone sour, bitchy interviews, getting sick, Tom’s own depression.  
It makes Matt want to wrap him up in a million blankets and feed him fudge.

It was Tord’s nineteenth birthday, and there was going to be a party. That night they had a hotel night, and Tord’s stupid girlfriend was coming to see the show. Matt just hopes she could help- that she will go out with him, and he'll have a good time, and it'll lift him up a little.  
He was just walking in to the dressing room tell Tord it was curtain call- and the two were fighting. Matt could see that immediately in Tord’s posture and the way his mouth was puckered. But, Matt walks in at the wrong (or right) moment- just in time to hear her say  
“Can’t you just be happy? I’m here, can’t you just be happy today.”

Matt sees red. That is so fucked up and Matt can feel the anger boil in him, getting ready to explode. Tord is staring at him with wide eyes, and he looks completely crushed. The only thing that stops Matt from losing his shit was the crew coming in to drag him and Tord out of the room to play.

Matt seethes the entire show, keeping a careful eye on Tord the entire time. They do their set, only to be dragged around for an interview and meet and greets, and today is so not the day.

Tord avoids him, and that’s what really hurts. (Well, he avoids everyone. But, that doesn’t make Matt worry any less.)

 

Matt doesn’t get to see him until 3AM, and by that point he had plenty of ill feelings stewing. That fucking asshole of a girlfriend better not be there, because she was in danger. Matt stomps to the hotel room, slamming his hand against the door.

For a second he wishes he hadn't. Tord answers the door in sweats, eyes rimmed red and his hair a mess.  
She put that look there. The anger comes right back, and stronger.

"Where is she?" Matt can't even recognize his own voice. It's all venom and sharp edges.  
"I dunno, out? I told her I wasn't feeling good." Tord deflated, he leaves the door open as he turns to go back inside.  
"I am going to ring her neck." Matt slams the door, his hands fisting, "What the fuck was she thinking? It’s your fucking birthday!"

"She's not so bad, Matt..." Tord's tone said he doesn't believe that much, either.

"Not so bad? She basically told you to repress your feelings and pretend to be happy- what is that shit?"

"She didn't mean it like that..."

"Fuck, I don't care. Because, she said it. Worst of all she said it to you . "

"She was trying to help?" but it came out more as a question.

"By, what? Being an asshole? Tord, you deserve so much more than that."

“I.. I’m not so sure I do. Deserve more than that.”

Matt just kind of gapes at him. Tord was low, sure. But he's been lower. He had watched Tord bawl and avoid the world and forget to eat. Tord has a shitty self image, but Matt knew that about him, already- because he knows Tord. If Tord was good at anything, it was pretending to be okay. But, it's hard to hear it out loud. (Like a verbal slap in the face.)

“No… _Tord,_   _no_.”

Seriously, what? What was that? Matt waits for Tord to crack a joke, to take it back. But he doesn’t, just stands in the middle of this crappy little hotel room, examining the carpet like it's the most interesting thing in the world. Matt wants to scream and cry and punch walls. She did this- she put that defeated look on his face and broke his soul- and god, Tord. He looks up, eyes hopeless. Matt feels his heart melt a little, the anger ebbing away.

Matt takes a breath. Grow a pair, Hargreaves, Tord needs you.

“How can you not know how important you are? You deserve everything- and more than that, you deserve someone who sees it.” Matt would love to give him it, everything he had, if he could. The entire world served on a platter right along with his heart. But he can’t say that, can’t put that on Tord. He swallows hard, pushing through, “You deserve someone who see’s you, who gets you. How you think and who you are and all the awesome ways you influence the world. How you reach out and love the people around you.”

Tord opens his mouth to refute it (Matt could see it in the way his eyebrows screw up.) So Matt reaches out, grabbing the shorter man’s hand in his.

“But not just on your good days, but when you’re down, too- fuck, you deserve someone who will take all your shit on their shoulders and still love you more for all of it.”

Let me hold it. Let me take the globe off your shoulders and let you breath. He wanted to say it, almost did. That's what's fucking scary, how out of control he is. Matt is a heavy thinker- he doesn’t blurt things out. This was word barf at best, out of control and messy.

“Jesus. She is so selfish. She had everything, man. She had you! Who the fuck does she think she is? “

Matt opens his eyes, not even sure when he had screwed them shut. He expects to see Tord, uncomfortable and confused. Instead, he only sees Tord’s eyes; soft and crinkly, the hint of the smile at the corners of his mouth. (It’s one of Matt’s favorites, right next to Tord with his head thrown back as he laughs.)

“I’m that awesome, huh?” He sounds careful, no part of his tone mocking.  
Matt had gone a little overboard, so he treads carefully.  
“Uhh, Yeah. Well.” Matt scratches at the back of his head awkwardly. “Yeah.”

Tord crowds into Matt’s space, "And where am I suppose to find this miracle person? Huh? Who knows me that well."

Matt knows the answer for this one, easy. But it isn’t safe territory. The neon warning signs going off in Matt’s mind (And seriously, where were those earlier when he was coughing chunks of his heart all over Tord’s shoes.) Tord has a girlfriend- now is not the time. Not now. Matt turns to fiddle with something on the dresser.

“Anyone who takes more than five minutes to really listen to you will see it, T.” Shrug, “It’s you. You’re like a beacon or something. The right person will see it, and be drawn to you. Everyone is.”

Tord stops, not saying anything. Matt can feel his brown eyes boring into the side of his head, he can’t bring himself to look back. Tord just waits for something Matt can’t say or even fathom. Not now. He’s vulnerable enough.

He sees Tord nod in his peripheral vision. Just a small motion, before he walks out of the room, rubbing a hand down Matt’s back in thanks.

Matt feels a little like an idiot, but in a good way.

(Tord breaks up with his girlfriend a week later. )

* * *

 

**20**

 

It’s after the party when it happens.

Tord had come out early (or, well, earlier) and climbed into the van where Matt was hanging out, wasting time on his laptop. Matt can tell he’s not all there, see the glazed look on his face. But, by this time, it was normal. Tord was like this more often than not, these days. It was almost easier this way. Tord was cuddly when he got high, always latching on like an octopus to Matt when he got back toking up. So, Matt put down his laptop, adjusting for Tord to crawl up into space between him and the seat.  
Which isn't… exactly what happened. Tord climbs up, all pointy knees and uncoordinated limbs, just like normal. But then, instead of burrowing into Matt’s side, he lays directly on top of him, legs moving to frame Matt’s hips.  
  
Matt opens his mouth to ask what the fuck was going on, when Tord promptly tried to shove his tongue down his throat.  
  
Tord's kissing him, and it's nothing like Matt had dreamed.  
  
Matt has never felt so displaced before. He knew (and accepted) a long time ago that he is going down a different path then he was meant for.  
He has given up a fucking lot for this band. He was supposed to be living in a commune, happy as a clam. He was supposed to be wearing a fucking natural homemade cotton shirt and hemp pants harvesting fucking soybeans.  
Instead, Tord's kissing him in the back of a van that smelled like McDonalds Cheeseburgers and boy sweat. A kiss that's wet and sloppy- not romantic at all. It tastes like tobacco and rum and it makes Matt’s stomach curl.  
And for god’s sake, they're in the back of a fucking car in the middle of nowhere. This is about as far away from optimal as it can get. As far away from Matt as you could get.

 

He should be light years away from this car, from this moment. Yet, here he is.

At some point he pushes Tord off him, and makes himself clamber out of the car without watching Tord as he falls in a heap on the car floor. He needs to get out of there. He struggles to to get out the door- as soon as he hits fresh air he just runs. Runs until his lungs ache and he’s sweating and queasy.  
He runs until he can’t anymore. And when that comes, he falls onto some grassy lawn and tries to catch his breath and not cry . (He doesn’t do a very good job at either.)  
But, even when his heart hurts and he wants to crawl up in ball, he knows he wouldn’t change it. Even when he snotting all over himself in the middle of some suburban neighborhood, he knows he wouldn’t give it up.

He knew when he signed on with this band what he was giving up; but also knew drums would make him happier than all of that. Knew that this was his: his little family. And to, some degree, Tord is part of that. He was important to Matt, and he was worth it. Edd and Tom are worth it. Their band was worth it.

It just doesn’t feel like it, right at that moment.

He drags himself onto his feet, practically limping back to where the busses are parked.

The next morning, the bus stops at this little diner. They all pile into the booth, and Matt watches Tord out of the side of his eye as he nurses a cup of coffee and a hang over. Everything seems just fine. Matt thinks that maybe Tord is avoiding eye contact, but he is probably just making things up.

They’re okay.

Matt shoves the memory in a box and pushes it deep into his subconscious.  
(Every once in a while, Tord will push their legs together, lining them up so their thighs to ankles will be pressed together as they sit next to each other on the couch. Matt always jumps up, a knee jerk reaction. He hates the look on Tord’s face when he does it.)

But, for the most part, everything goes back to normal. Because, underneath all it all, Tord is still his best friend.

There really isn’t anything Tord could do to hurt that.

* * *

 

**21**

 

Tord turns 21 in a bus driving through a one lane highway going through a cornfield.  
They celebrate by drinking warm orange soda and playing Britney Spears at an ear bleeding volume while dancing crazy enough that their driver tells them to tone it down.

In honor of the glorious occasion, they get a hotel with real beds that night- but that’s about it. They have to get up at the asscrack of dawn in order to get to the venue on time, so there isn't even time to go anywhere for a drink. But, it’s nice. It’s not like having a big party to celebrate Tord legally being able to drink would be that different from the past 7 years.

Tord smiles a lot and, it may be Matt's imagination, sits extra close to Matt when they play Call of Duty.

Matt and Tord are sharing a room, as is usual, and once they kick Tom out to his own room next door (Edd helps, wrapping his arms around Tom’s thin waist and physically dragging him from the room with promises to sing to him if he’d just stop squirming.) Giving Tord and Matt the opportunity to do their hotel-night routine. Tord grabs a shower while Matt gets in his pajama pants and pacing around the room while he brushes his teeth. Tord comes out, wrapped in every towel that was in the bathroom, and stays like that for at least 20 minutes before getting into his sleep shirt and boxers.  
(That used to be really distracting. Matt would get turned on in the most uncomfortable way. He used to go for walks while Tord was in the shower, just to avoid it. But he got used to it.)  
The normalcy of it makes Matt smile in a content sort of way.

 

It isn’t even abnormal when Tord slides into Matt’s bed instead of his own, pulling the comforter over his head (Matt’s in a band full of tactile cuddle addicts. You get used to it pretty fast.)

But when Matt gets in, and Tord stays ram-rod straight on his side of the bed, that Matt realizes that this isn’t the average hotel night habits.

But he just waits- if Tord wants to talk, he will. If he doesn’t, then there is nothing Matt can do. So he just relaxes as best he can and tries to go to sleep.

“One year ago I did something that was really unfair to you.”

Matt almost jumps out of his skin, spooked by the break in the silence. The worst part is, Matt has no question what Tord’s talking about. His head flashes back to the street light streaming through the back of some crew member’s van, tobacco breath, and sore calves. Matt squeezes his eyes shut and waits. This could go anywhere, and he’s not sure if he’s ready for any of it.

Tord takes Matt’s silence as the admission that it is, and he can hear the guitarist take in a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. You deserve so much more than that. From everyone, but most specifically me.”

God, Tord was trying to kill him. Matt knew. He knew that Tord and him were dancing around each other, knew that one little slip and they would collide and spill all of their messy feelings. But, once again, now couldn’t be that moment.

(Matt wonders when it will be. If it ever will be.)

Matt nods in the dark, and shuffles a little closer to Tord. A little I understand, you’re forgiven. Tord relaxes.

 

**

It doesn’t happen on Tord’s birthday. It isn’t started by an awkward conversation, no one’s heart is broken. They aren’t sad or hurt or angry.

Tord is 100% sober and he’s smiling the little smile that lights up his whole face, the one Matt loves so _so_ much.

This isn’t an after party or a hotel night. They aren’t even on tour. The bus is gone, and Tom and Edd are at their own houses.

They’re just hanging out in Tord’s practice space, and Tord is trying to pluck out the theme to the old Batman cartoon and Matt is lazily doing paradiddles because they make Tord mess up and giggle.

But then the music stops and Matt looks up to see Tord just staring at him, a little thoughtful look on his face and Matt feels a little self conscious and turned on under the longer Tord's gaze is fixed on him.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

Matt looks down at the head of his drum, ignoring the way his cheeks flamed up.

“Yeah, I know. I love you too.”

Tord’s guitar is back on its stand and suddenly Tord is right there, pulling him up.  
“No. I mean I love you.”  
Well, that was blunt.

“I know you feel the same, at least a little bit. I need to know, Matt. I need to know what this is, once and for all, before you break my heart.”

“Tord, I-” He wasn’t sure what, but he knows he can't. He has been running away from this for too long, doesn't know how to turn around or stop. Because no matter how Tord loves him, it wouldn’t be the same. He can’t risk what they have because of what they might be.  
He had accepted a long time ago that it wasn’t worth it.

“You can, Matt. _Please_ , you can. You can have everything you want, I just have to know what that is. All I want is you, anyway I can have you.” Tord sounded desperate, and that’s what makes Matt look up at him. He’s got tears shining in his eyes, like Matt was being difficult. Matt doesn’t mean to be.

Right now, his head was just a series of bright, confused colors followed by a ‘can not compute’ message.

“I don’t know what that means, Tord.”

“For the love of- This is it what it means: I want you. I want you in a hundred different ways and I don’t even know what to do with it all. So, please, Matt. Tell me where we stand, I will be happy with whatever you want. Just don’t give me hope that isn’t there.”

God, there it was. Matt choked on Tord’s words. His heart taking them in greedily, as his head tries to warn them off.

But this is Tord, and he has to. (to believe him, to tell him, to trust him)

“I want you in a million different ways, if you’d give me a chance.”

Matt shuts his eyes tight to the feeling of Tord’s hand on his cheeks.

“It’s yours. I’m yours. Always have been.” 

* * *

**22**

 

Matt wakes up to teeth biting lightly at his neck. He’s comfortable and cozy, wrapped up in a quilts and strong arms. The room is lit up in buttery gold light through the window, and Matt can’t find it in him to fight the heavy lethargy of sleep. He tilts his head a little, giving access to his neck.

“Come on, lazy bones.” it’s a husky whisper in his ear, rough in a way that only the first words of the morning can be, and Matt just chuckles. He rolls over in the hold, opening his eyes to the mass of hair and playful brown eyes that makes up his boyfriend.

“G’morning to you too.” he pushes his smile against Tord’s lips, kissing him lazy and sweet. Tord huffs, but reciprocates easily.

“There’s only one thing I like more than morning sex,” Tord breathes it out, like he’s trying to keep conversation but it distracted by how Matt’s hand is already down Tord’s boxer shorts.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Birthday morning sex.”

Matt just laughs, rolling Tord over easily to kiss at his chest easier.

Twenty two is going to be a good year.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry mom and also jesus


End file.
